


we ourselves must walk the path

by American_Pandora



Series: and they would smile at the beauty of destruction [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, The World of Ice & Fire, The World of Ice & Fire: The Untold History of Westeros and The Game of Thrones
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Incest, Multi, OC, OFC - Freeform, OMC - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Female Characters - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Polyamory, Polygamy, So many OCs, The Doom, aenar targaryen - Freeform, as well as, daenys targaryen - Freeform, daenys the dreamer - Freeform, pre aegon's conquest, pre doom of valyria, slight gore warning i guess???, targaryen expected incest, the doom of valyria, warnings: description of the doom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-18 20:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8175799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/American_Pandora/pseuds/American_Pandora
Summary: Daenys did not doubt her dreams. They always came true, no matter what one did to try and stop them.


  No, when the dreams came to her, tinged in red, in crimson, they always came true.





	1. red dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing; I am just playing with the players GRRM has left about. I'm considering expanding upon this (like, her family moving to Dragonstone, etc) if it's taken well. In my mind, Daenys is about 8 years old here. Not beta'd (I don't know how you do that) and uploaded at 4am.
> 
>  
> 
> _"And then, unexpected to all (save perhaps Aenar Targaryen and his maiden daughter Daenys the Dreamer) the Doom came to Valyria."_  
>  The World of Ice and Fire, page 26

Father came to where he knew she would be, on the balcony with the onyx tiles that faced The Bay. It was hard to reconcile this Bay, in whose waters she and all her brothers and sisters had sailed upon, had sailed over, with the bubbling waters that screamed death even in her dreams. 

Daenys did not doubt her dreams. They always came true, no matter what one did to try and stop them. Like the time she had tried to stop Vaenys from following Gaemon and Vaelon into the secret tunnel. 

Vaenys had broken her arm something terrible, just like she had foreseen. 

No, when the dreams came to her, tinged in red, in crimson, they always came true. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway- proud, sure- and Daenys turned to the doorway, where the red silk curtains- made of silk so fine they were mostly sheer- fluttered in the breeze. (In her dream, the red curtains were still there. And the finesse of the silk didn't stop them from burning when the large chunks of burning rock flew from The Third Flame right to where Father now stood, skidding and taking out the onyx tiles polished so well she could see the rest of the city burning in their reflection.) 

"Daenys," Aenar Targaryen's voice is warm, warm like the holy springs near The Flames, "Gihaes said you had a red dream. Tell me about it, my little firebug." 

Father takes her hand and leads her to the plush lounges on the patio, not knowing that, someday, they will be burned past the point of ash. 

Her Father does not fear her red dreams- and why should he? It means she has a future as a priestess, one who could rise high and bring honor to the Targaryen family. All the red dreams before- like when she told him that mother was pregnant with Laenys and would birth no more, or when Daenys had told him that Ryzaros would lay a whole clutch of nine eggs, and six would hatch now and be dragons for his children, or when she told him that he would be knifed in the back one night in Volantis- had never come close to the magnitude of this dream. 

No, what she dreamt was likely out of the realm of her Father's possibility. 

Still, she had to tread carefully. "How was Volantis, father? How is Ryzaros?" 

Her Father chuckled, "It was good, my child; but it is not Valyria. I actually ran into your Aunt Yana's goodbrother there, Lucryse Velaryon? He kept trying to convince me to invest in moving out west with him. He's a good man, your uncle, but he's a little crazy. It must be the distance from The Flames." Father shielded his hand, to look up at the fiery mountains against the blue sky. Daenys knew they made him feel at home. "And Ryzaros is good, my child. Eager to return to her children. But the flight did her good, and the business for the Senate is done. Now what is it that you needed to speak with me about?" 

Daenys avoided the question. "Yes, Shyro is quite glad to have her mother home. It was hard to explain to her where she was. Mother wouldn't let me keep her in my room." Daenys pouted here, just a little bit. And then, remembering the sight of her room filled with toxic green gas, knew she could not put off speaking about it any longer. 

"Father... I've had a red dream." She began. Aenar, upon noticing his daughter's serious demeanor, sat up from the chaise and straightened himself up. 

"Tell me, Daenys, tell me." Aenar urged. Fear began to stoke his heart like the temple priests stoked up special green flames to consume the body of the dragon that has past, after the owner had removed all it's usable parts so it could live on. 

"Oh, Father!" Daenys cried, running forward. Aenar barely has time to open his arms before she is in them, sobbing. His fear is deep- his Daenys did not even cry when she told him he would be knifed in Volantis. 

Scooping her up, Aenar heads to his chambers, barking at Gihaes to find Saenys.

Even from the dragonpit, Aenar can hear the roar the usually even tempered Ryzaros lets out. 

* * *

An hour later, after a calming draught and being wrapped in a warm orange and black stripped fur of some beast from some place that she can't be bothered to remember, Daenys Targaryen tells her parents what will happen to their home. How stones of fire will fly from deep within The Fourteen Flames and knock down building and dragonrider alike. How hot molten stone will flood the streets, catching pedestrians, both peasant and noble, unawares and burning them to death until they are less then bone. How the waters of the bay would turn black and bubble and look like sewage and burn any man that dare even put their face close to it. How even the _air_ is deadly to breathe.

The upside, Daenys managed to get across to her parents through hiccuped sobs, was that if they went far enough west, they would live. Their line would prosper

As the exhausted little girl fell asleep on her parents bed, curled up in her mother's tiger skin, Saenys and Aenar exchanged abject, horrified looks. 

Their daughter's red dreams had yet to be wrong. But what could they do? They couldn't just up and leave everything they knew behind. 

And yet, it's exactly what they must do.


	2. break or fold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> decisions must be made

Aenar often cursed the fact that he had four wives. 

And the fact that three of them were his sisters, though Helia was only his half. 

Issa, his third wife and cousin, looked at him, mouth that was usually in a tight line, open in disbelief. 

"You're going to sell everything and move us to a western outpost, all on the dream of a daughter?!" She screeched at him. 

Dayella, his second daughter with Issa (his fifth overall) and only six moons old, started to wail at the sound of her mother's voice. 

Issa refused to attend her, staring at him in simple cold disbelief, until finally Helia grabbed the infant from her arms and plopped her at her own breast, next to Rhaemon, his year old son with his second wife (and tied as favorite with Saenys). 

Moving to the window, to overlook the bay, he said quietly, "It was not just any dream, Issa. It was a red dream, given to her by the gods themselves. Why would they give it if they did not wish us to do something on it?" 

"Perhaps the girl is just eager for attention!" The third wife (but fourth in status, the servants often whispered) snapped. 

Saenys, who had been talking quietly with Ren, their bastard sister, came into the conversation then. 

"That is my daughter you speak of. If you are fond of your tongue, I would suggest you silence it." 

If looks could kill, Aenar thought fondly, watching as his sister and head-wife glared his most troublesome one into submission. 

Truly, a beautiful sight, especially for one who was often so calm as Saenys was. 

"The girl has no need of attention. She is doted upon by her mother, her father, her grandmother, her siblings, the servants, two of her near-mothers, her uncles, her aunt, and nearly everyone she meets. Daenys has never before lashed out in any way similar to this. Truly, Issa, I expected better of you as Rhienne's daughter." 

From the back of the room, Saraena Targaryen's voice rang out in a harsh rebuke. His mother had been silent so far- his mother was often silent, ever since Father's passing- and happy to sit in the shadows as they decided the future of their family. 

Aenar often thought that his mother favored Daenys. Oh, she loved all her grandchildren, even the ones given to her by Issa, who she loved less of his wives. But Daenys and Saraena could often be found enjoying time together, where the elder would seek his little one out. 

Gihaes, who just so happened to be Aenar's older, bastard brother, said it was because that Daenys reminded Saraena of Rhaema, Helia's mother, who had died shortly after birthing her. Who had the red dreams. (Who had reportedly died after a red dream.) 

Aenar wondered if his mother wasn't trying to stop history from repeating itself. 

The thought chilled him. "Issa," he said to her sternly, "If you have doubts about how I parent my children, kindly keep the discussion to our chamber." 

She wavered, now, under his harsh tones, "Of course, my love," and suddenly seemed to find the rug- Myrish- very interesting. 

The family- including his bastard siblings, the ones his mother insisted on keeping around (Aenar thinks his mother used Janalla to fill a whole in her heart after Helia died, and that Ren and Gihaes are near as much her children as he is)- debate long into the night, until it's pitch black out and the only light is the light that comes from the Third Flame. 

By dawn, they make a decision. 

As he attempts to sleep, with the morning light creeping in through the curtains- Helia had been on his right and Saenys is on his left, curled against his back- he whispers, "Have I done the right thing, my dears?" 

The dawn light enshrouds his second wife as she feeds their son. "The problem," Helia whispers, rocking Rhaemon back to rest, "is that there is no right thing to be done."

**Author's Note:**

>  _"Twelve years before The Doom of Valyria (114 BC), Aenar Targaryen sold his holdings in the Freehold and the Lands of the Long Summer and moved with all his wives, wealth, slaves, dragons, siblings, kin, and children to Dragonstone, a bleak island citadel beneath a smoking mountain in the narrow sea."_  
>  The World of Ice and Fire, page 31
> 
>  


End file.
